Well
by Salamander789
Summary: I, what? Where am I? A man ends up in the world of Overwatch.
1. Chapter 1

I stumbled, my footing gone and the ground beneath me unstable.

What?

I looked behind me only to see a brick wall. I looked around once again and noticed I was in an alley, its dark shadow providing protection from the large heat waves beating on the dirt road just ahead of me. The light was piercing, but ahead I could see figures, shadows, dart back and forth, unaware of the panic rising in this lone stranger's chest.

Where am I? What?

I had never been good with stressful situations. My fight or flight instincts didn't work properly. I just froze, taking in the world around me slowly, trying, and failing, to adjust. Confused, I walked towards the light.

"I wouldn't do that chico."

A voice, a woman's voice. Oddly comforting and playful what with its hispanic undertone. Nonetheless it didn't stop me from twisting around suddenly, my breath intaking quite audibly.

Nothing. Nobody was there. Was I dreaming?

I held my pointer finger up to my hand and pushed it, expecting it to come out the other end. A small trick used to induce lucid dreams.

"Am I dreaming?"

I asked the question to myself aloud. Funny thing that. Lucid dreams that is. The only way to induce one is to practice in reality. Reality checks are what small tricks like this are called. I have been performing them for about a month straight, keeping a dream journal too.

My hope is to one day wake up in a dream I can control, just to exper-

A giggle broke me from my thoughts and I looked up to see the most beautiful but also disturbing thing happen right in front of my eyes.

Reality almost seemed to warp, shift, like a dark purple veil with pink undertones being lifted. Beneath it awaited a figure of even greater beauty. It took me but a moment to realize this was the woman who I had heard speak to me.

Good. At least I wasn't completely crazy. Oh, and my finger didn't go through my hand. This was reality.

"You look like you have seen a ghost, camarada" The woman smirked at me and I couldn't help but memorize every contour of her face. She was beautiful, like an image from some of my more angelic dreams. Again I couldn't get the thoughts of dreaming out of my head.

The woman shifted once more in my sight, the playful look in her eyes never leaving me. The light barely reached her figure, mine blocking it from reaching her. She pivoted quickly, so fast I could barely follow, and before I knew it she was uncomfortably pressed up to my left side.

I dont like people being on my less dominant side. I'm right handed, and right minded.

Her fingers reached out for my jaw, and I became vaguely aware that she had was wearing gloves that had metallic claws.

The steel points guided my head to look at her, right in the eyes.

"I- What's going on?"

The woman kept that same smile on her face as she looked at me- no- straight through me.

"No se chico, porque no me dices?"

The mixup of languages was starting to get to me. I had taken two years of spanish but it had been a good four years since then.

Nonetheless my mouth spoke for me, almost as if my ego wasn't the one truly in control, "I think I understand, You don't know? You want me to tell you?"

I couldn't help but notice the panic that had been rising within me was gone, and it had been replaced with this woman. A stranger who seemed to know everything, yet like some sort of Zen master, instead of telling me the truth she wanted me to find out for myself.

The woman laughed, a small giggle that seemed genuine, and I felt her breath wash over my face.

Her claws moved away from my jawline, lightly scraping it. I now felt warmth cup my cheek, and a new cold rested on my earlobe, "Ahhh, mi camarada, we have much to catch you up on."

"Me conoces?" I asked. Nelson Mandela once said that speaking to a man in his language goes to his heart, while a language he understands will go to his head. I needed answers, the truth, and I would only get those from this woman's heart.

The woman stepped away from me slightly, her expression seemed touched that I had least given an honest effort to speak in her tongue.

"Not bad, not bad at all, though you should probably leave the Spanish to us natives, ay, chico blanco?"

The woman took another few steps back, and before she could crash into the brick wall behind her, her right leg came up and her back pressed comfortably up against the structure.

Almost as if she was constantly spatially aware.

"No chico, I don't know who you are. Never met you in my life."

I let out a breath i hadn't realized I had been holding ever since she had stepped into my personal space. Well, at least we're both in the unknown here.

The woman laughed, "You take comfort from us both being in the dark? If I didn't know any better I would say you're a hacker."

I said that out loud?

"Listen I, I don't really know what's going on here, but something tells me I can trust you…" the woman shifted her stance, it seemed my words had affected her, "Could you tell me where I am? What the date is?"

"And why should I help you? A cabron who doesn't even know where he's at or what time it is?"

Her eyes had narrowed slightly, but I could tell the question wasn't meant to jab or poke at me.

Also with her narrowed eyes and quirked grin I could tell she was enjoying the conversation with this stranger more than she let on.

I felt thrill shoot up my spine as I latched onto a reply in my head, one that made me feel smart. One that I knew would make this woman like me enough to at least assist me.

"Because we both don't know."

She raised an eyebrow, as if expecting me to elaborate.

I smirked for the first time since arriving in this… wherever I was, "Eso es todo, that's it, that's my answer" I finished.

Again the woman smiled brightly and laughed, her brown eyes stirring with mirth as she clutched her stomach slightly.

"Alright amigo," Ah, I'm a friend now. Good to know I suppose. "Let's find out together then hmm?"

The woman stepped away from the wall and stopped in front of me. Hand shaking distance I idly noted.

Then she held out her hand.

Oh.

Haha. I love my brain sometimes. Gosh that sounds egotistical. Am I egotistical? I suppose I could be nicer to those I care abou-

"Ahem." The woman was holding out her hand expectantly, her face scrunched up into a cute pout, "And just when I said something so awesome too, do you always space out like that?"

Hmm, in order to be less egotistical I should stop living in my head, and more in the present.

Otherwise I would have missed our handshake.

"My name is Sombra, chico, but you can call me Olivia."

So, she has an alias, but by giving me her real name she is trusting me. Okay.

I gripped her hand tightly, not too hard and not too soft, just enough, "Maxwell. Maxwell Strand, but you can just call me Well."

The woman let out a snort, "What? No Max?"

I tightened my grip on her hand for just a moment before letting go, "No, everybody calls me Max, and my mother and sister call me Maxwell. I figured you could call me something different."

Olivia smiled.

That sentence, "Olivia smiled" made me smile too. Or was it the picture I was seeing that made me smile? The light from the alley gently illuminating one side of her, while the other was encompassed in shadow.

Suddenly her left arm was around my neck, guiding me further into the recesses of the alleyway, "Vamanos amigo, I think this is the start to a wonderful investigation."

I walked with her into a brick wall with confidence.

Afterall, friendship is trust.

/-/

**I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this story guys haha. It's sort of an Overwatch self insert, but in a way, also an Overwatch OC with aspects of my personality injected into it. This won't be a Gary Stu or whatever you want to call it.**

**I just sat at my computer and typed this out, no plan in my head, which in a way feels poetic. As a person who views themselves as more of a reader than a writer, my enjoyment from writing comes from surprising myself more than my reader. Yeah, I know that's selfish but I can't help it if I enjoy this kind of writing more than planned, well thought out writing, even if it is viewed as objectively "Better"**

**Anywhoodles, thanks for reading this if you did. Like I said this is all improv, so chapters will be spontaneous, but from the heart. Please leave your thoughts and reviews on this short piece, I'm sure there's more to come.**

**P.S. The majority of Spanish seen in this piece will be mostly elementary, just bits and pieces. So don't complain about me not translating it in the moment, and instead look it up, because it will just keep appearing more and more. Again, you cant live life complaining about not knowing something, the more you know the less you will complain and the more you will enjoy. Personally I never look up translations because I feel comfortable with not knowing. You dont need to know the words to know the context is what Im saying. Anyways sorry for the lecture, I still love you all.**


	2. Chapter 2

We walked through the wall and my stomach squeezed slightly. It took all my willpower not to flinch as Olivia's strong grip guided me along.

It felt so… wrong… like my body wasn't even real.

For a moment, images and memories flashed in my head, ones I didn't recognize as my own. Then just as fast as they had come they left.

We were on the other side.

Olivia looked over at me, her eyes spoke of confusion and her grip on me lessened slightly, as if unsure of my presence in her abode.

"What?"

She recovered quickly, "Nothing mi amigo, come."

The hallway we were walking down was sparsely lit, with little to speak of in terms of decor. The walls were painted black as night, and a single oak wood door could be seen at the far end.

I found myself staring at the door, light was emitting from beneath it, a soft purple hue.

"This isn't just a hallway, is it?" I asked. My Spanish friend smiled again.

"I'm glad you're smarter than most I bring through here, yes, if it weren't for me then you would be dead where you stand."

I looked down and sure enough, small creases in the black, of course, velvet carpet were visible if one strained their eyes hard enough.

I didn't ask what lies beneath them.

"So only those you trust come through here?"

The woman pondered slightly, her hand resting on her chin, "I wouldn't say trust… more like…"

"Respect?"

Olivia smiled.

The woman skipped when we got closer to the door, almost as if she were excited about some secret she had to show me.

"Come, come, its been so long since somebody has seen my office for the first time!"

I laughed at her enthusiasm and shook my head. Maybe for once in my life I should just take it all in stride. Forget the fact that I wasn't just sitting at my desk about to play a video game when I was randomly teleported.

Accept the fact that for some reason God, as I assume that's who did this to me, put me here for a reason.

Olivia was ignorant of my inner thoughts, she busied herself with opening the door and was facing away from me.

Speaking of doors, "If you can teleport us through walls then why have a door as an entrance to your… office?"

The hacker pulled out a lockpick, "Because, my cute little friend," I heard an unlocking sound from over Olivia's shoulder, "I like tradicion"

Her words made me think of my old Toyota pickup I used to have. It was my first vehicle and it was a manual. In a way the thing represented tradition both literally and figuratively. Its air conditioning worked but its heater was just fucking perfect. I probably dumped more money into it than I had spent to buy it in the first place. Nowadays I often find myself itching to drive manual or push in a clutch when driving my newer, more compact jeep.

"I think I could get behind that perspective, you use computers to hack, but using a lockpick to open your own door reminds you of your roots right?"

Olivia turned slightly to face me, her right hand was gripping the door knob, "Well," the door was pushed open, "I think you and I are going to get along juuuust fine…"

I stepped through, not even heeding the hand that pushed my back gently.

"Wow…"

I could almost feel the proud smirk behind me, but could I blame her? The room was small but its contents vast.

Immediately the one thing that stood out to me was the floor. It wasn't a floor.

Instead it was glass and beneath it was a giant monitor currently displaying a map of the world. Small pins were labelled all over it. One in Japan, another in London, some in places of the world I couldn't bother to name what with my subpar knowledge of geography.

Olivia glided around me and sat at her desk but said nothing, seemingly letting me take it all in and enjoying every second of it.

The wall immediately to my left had a few monitors on it, some of them had camera views perched over locations I assumed to be all over the Earth, while some were turned off. An ominous purple skull rotated as a screensaver in those not being used.

As a side note two archways were located on the left side of the room as well, one lead to a bathroom while the other was a bedroom as far as I could tell.

Olivia's desk took up the majority of the rights side of the room. I noticed that she had tablets strewn about everywhere, a few desktop computer towers, and a small laptop.

I could go on forever, but this place was basically a techy's paradise.

"This is an eye doctor's worst nightmare" I said aloud, my jaw was still slightly dropped from the technological glory I was witnessing. My companion giggled at my comment.

"Te gusta?" She leaned on her desk, and I tried desperately not to look at the way her bend accentuated her curves.

"Si," I looked at her the entire time, "Me gusta…" If she noticed my leering she made no comment on it.

"What do you do with all of this? Just how much do you hack?"

Olivia examined her nails for a moment, "I'm a professional. The best."

It was stated so casually i had no choice but to believe it. If anyone could help me figure out how I had gotten here, it would be her.

"And the best only use the best…" I stated. It was then that I realized she had led me here on a whim, nothing more. Somebody who could pull strings like her could choose their contracts with extreme prejudice.

This also meant she would need some form of payment for helping me out.

"I'm glad we are on the same page, Well."

Oops, I did it again apparently.

"We have covered the why, and you have gained some of my respect, but I also don't work for free…"

I nodded, understandable.

Only problem is I'm basically useless in this world. I have no money, no skills, and nothing to tr-

Then it hit me, just why exactly I had felt so strange when we had floated through that brick wall. Those memories and images that weren't my own, the sensation that something was off. Olivia had been probing me.

I smirked at Olivia, "I think I do have something I could trade… it's not much, but I have a feeling you already took your payment from me…." As if to state the obvious with my eyes I looked at the metallic rings on her scalp, then pointed at my head.

"Ahhh, mi amigo, the more time I spend with you the more I like the way you think. Tell me, do you believe in fate?"

I shook my head immediately, "Fate isn't real, its just hindsight, like how Hitler met his "fate" when he commited suicide. It wasn't fate, just multiple wrong choices, yet historians use their hindsight to claim it was his fate."

Olivia smirked, the kind of smirk that anybody would find infuriating but me. The hacker rotated her chair and waved her hands around, manipulating the screen in front of her with practiced ease.

"You see Well, I don't believe in fate either, however i do believe in purpose" the screen changed to a brand name. Overwatch? "Everybody needs a purpose, small or large, something that keeps them _moving_"

The logo changed, replaced with a picture of multiple people in different poses.

Some of them looked more like androids or Gundam characters than people, but I wasn't one to judge.

"Your payment isn't your information," Oh. As if sensing that I was thinking she would take my kidneys from me the hacker flashed me a smile, "buck up chico, it's not too bad. You could have run into Gabriel when you were brought here."

I paused at that name, it seemed familiar to me, like a memory just out of reach.

"Gabriel?"

"I will tell you later, the point is that despite your absolutely terrible luck, you were given good luck when you landed here, in Dorado, Mexico."

She's starting to give me answers.

"You are very interesting… a time traveler, possibly even a dimensional traveler!"

I had a sinking feeling in my gut, like this was going to lead to me joining some sort of secret group who traveled the lands of time and space, stopping baddies and saving the day.

"You should probably stop thinking out loud amigo."

Dammit.

Olivia shifted her weight in her chair, one leg crossing over another.

"You are an unknown, not just to me, but the entire universe you are in right now." With a flutter of her fingers the monitor changed and multiple web pages and windows popped up, "I can't find a shred of information on you anywhere. The name 'Maxwell Strand' doesn't exist, at least when paired with _your _face."

Olivia leaned in towards me, and I was once again captured by her eyes. Pure intelligence.

"You have been blessed with a unique purpose," her hands cupped mine, slightly tracing their backsides with her thumbs, "you can do some real good here, and all you have to do?" She leaned in closer, her mouth right next to my ear. Never in my life had I felt my heart beat faster than it is right now, "be a dishwasher."

…

What?

Like little bells her chuckle reverberated around the room, "It's brilliant isn't it!? Well, what's important isn't your dishwashing, no no no no no, what matters is _where _you will be dishwashing and _what _you will be doing on your, ahem, 'breaks'" I couldn't help but find her little quotation marks cute when paired with her seemingly deadly claws.

"So what, I will be an undercover cop?"

Olivia regarded me with a look akin to praise, "Exactamente, Well" The woman changed the view on the monitor once again, "I have seen the inside of your head. I know what you know, but most importantly, I know what you _don't _know."

A makeshift powerpoint popped up on the screen, "You may want to sit on the couch for this lesson, amigo. It's going to be the longest history class you have ever been in."

"Woah woah woah, I haven't even agreed to your offer yet! Heck, I don't even know what your offer is!" Things were moving way too fast for my liking. I may be all about Zen and going with the flow but there was no flow to this. Okay sure, I'm gonna be an undercover agent, but for whom? And where? How much danger is involved? What's at stake?

"Calm down."

I looked up, feeling the tinges of what I thought had been an internal tangent leave my throat.

A face contorted in both concern and annoyance greeted me. Suddenly I felt like some sort of naughty puppy.

"In order for me to make this offer, I have to give you the history of our world. If I don't, then your decision would be skewed in my favor."

"Huh, how… fair for a hacker…."

Olivia smiled, "Friendship is trust after all. Would you trust me if I knowingly deceived you into working for me?"

The obvious answer to that question would be no, but I'm just Zen enough to answer yes.

"Yes"

She didn't expect that, and as such she promptly laughed, "Okay amigo, if that's how you are then just trust me."

I looked into her eyes, this was important and she needed to understand just where I stood when it came to our… partnership? Relationship? Whatever I will figure it out later.

"I said it before in the alley, I trust you."

Olivia flinched. I wasn't expecting that.

With a sigh the hacker picked herself up from her chair so I could get a full view of the monitor, "Then pay attention, mi amigo, it could mean the difference between failure and success."

So I learned about the world I was in. Overwatch. Talon. Omnics.

I'm honestly not sure if I'm more scared or excited.

/-/

"Considering all of this, are you still in?"

There was no room for hesitation. All my life I had been a nobody, just a random dishwasher going with the flow of life. This fact didn't necessarily bother me, but I had always told myself that if opportunity presented itself to me, then I would take it.

"I don't really have a choice. Either way, I still end up a dishwasher."

Olivia smiled, "I hope you're ready Well, this won't be an ordinary gig."

I looked back up at her, doing my best to scrounge up every ounce of charisma and courage I had, "Life's more fun when it isn't ordinary. You know who I am and what I have done, which is to say absolutely nothing." I looked over at the image that I hadn't recognized before. I no longer saw androids or Gundams. I saw people chasing their dreams, doing their best with what they had. "I would be both a fool and a coward to not take this opportunity."

"To make your life into a legend? Somebody who will be remembered?"

That thought irked me somewhat. I don't care about being remembered. Glory means jack to a dishwasher, otherwise they wouldn't be a dishwasher.

"Good answer."

Instead of berating myself for speaking out loud again I went with it, "I wasn't finished. I get that you want to use me as an undercover agent and all that, but I want to do it my way." Olivia raised an eyebrow but let me go on, "Don't tell the agents who I am or why I'm there. Make it almost impossible for anyone to guess that I'm not who I'm supposed to be." That's one more thing. Apparently little miss hacker was the disguised leader of Overwatch. Most assumed it was Winston, afterall he had initiated the recall, but in reality he was second in command at best. Then another twist came when she told me her known identity was as an enemy to Overwatch. In other words, she was part of Talon, but secretly leading Overwatch in the shadows.

I know, been there, nursed that headache.

"Por que? You will be all on your own, and I can't just give you an earpiece, it will be noticed right away."

"That's the point. I want to do this on my own. I will get updates to you when I can, but for the most part leave me in the dark. This is the only way to make sure nobody knows. I will go completely unnoticed. Just a 20 year old kid working his way up in the world."

For a moment it looked like Olivia would say no, and I knew I would have to add an addendum to my argument.

"You told me to trust you, well then it works both ways. I already trust you, you need to trust me to get you the info you need, _when _you need it, and the rest will fall into place."

A miniature standoff occurred. Miniature because the hacker didn't really have a choice, I was her best chance to pull this off. I could find the rats and keep both special forces in control without even being noticed. She could custom design my cover without any thoughts to public records. I was the perfect blank slate.

She paced around the room biting her thumb before coming to a halt in front of me once again, "Ay ay ay, fine, just promise me to be safe, I will have to find a way to collect information from you at the end of every shift. Otherwise it would just expire by the end of the week. You need to understand that this isn't play. Talon and Overwatch are always working around each other. If what I get from you isn't given the very day you learn it then it's already obsolete."

The gravity of the deal I was making was starting to take hold. Lives could be lost if I wasn't careful.

A dishwasher could start a war worse than the one already going on.

"Alright, give me an earpiece, but don't expect me to use it until the end of my shifts."

The woman smiled, "You won't regret this, it could save your life."

I don't doubt it will.

/-/


	3. Chapter 3

The taxi slowed to a gentle stop as I stared out the window. Gibraltar. Apparently the de facto base for Overwatch. For now. Their recall had been hastily put into effect, and as such both Winston and Olivia had been overwhelmed by the number of hopeful recruits still eager to join the secretive organization.

Now I was going to be one of those 'hopefuls'.

"This is where I leave you, good luck kid." I looked back over to my driver, an Omnic. It was still hard for me to not stare at them, even though I knew they were just as capable of emotion and thought as any other human being. This one was well polished, or kempt, his blue overwatch uniform signifying that even though he was a driver, Overwatch had still trained him in weaponry.

"Thanks, you too" I didn't really know how to respond to what he said, and he must have detected this because he let out a robotic snort. God I never imagined that a sentence like that would ever pop up in my head.

I stepped out and closed the door behind me as I took in my new job site. It was rather easy to get me into the system here. I would start at the very bottom, just a dishwasher in the cafeteria that served the various soldiers and heroes that made their residence here. My walk towards the service entrance was peaceful, if not a bit sad. I could tell that they were still picking up from the rubble when they had first been shut down. Cracks were visible in some of the windows, and the lawns were unkempt. Tattered flags were hoisted down and replaced with new ones.

Idly I wondered why they made it so obvious that this was an Overwatch base, but it wasn't really my place to be thinking about these things.

Before Olivia had sent me on a one way trip here she had given me the earpiece. Discreetly I clicked the device three times in my pocket, letting her know I had arrived. I walked around a corner and immediately I could tell that the higher ups here cared more about the soldiers' first impressions of the base rather than the cooks'. For all intents and purposes they were using the back area as a dumping ground for anything broken, out of date, or just trash in general. A helipad was setup in the back, either for delivering agents or picking up the trash. I wasn't sure.

I walked up to the back service entrance, flashing my I.D. to the two grunts guarding it.

"Now hold just a minute buddy,"

Great. Not even one minute here and I'm already being shook down.

I stopped in my place, right in between the two, "Face me when I'm speaking to you."

Complying I absent-mindedly looked at my watch. Already two minutes late to my first shift.

I looked up at the man speaking to me. Easily 6'4", probably put in this position more for his intimidation factor than any actual skill. I could tell the one behind me was exactly the same, probably even had his gun trained on me.

Grunts.

Their outfits sort of reminded me of Soldier 76, they wore black ski masks with visors covering their eyes, except instead of a reddish orange tint they were more blue.

"I was told in my interview that I just had to have my I.D., what's the holdup?" I asked. One thing made abundantly clear to me was to not act shady whatsoever. Act like I was supposed to be here. The guard behind me chuckled while the grunt in front just grew a look of contempt.

"Don't you know how to properly greet your superiors on base? Just what are they teaching kids at the recruitment centers nowadays?"

Again, confusion blasted me. Recruitment centers?

Then the unexpected happened. The soldier interrogating me brushed his weapon aside and held out his fist to me, "For christ's sake kid, get that stick out of your ass and fistbump me already."

All of the anxiety building up in my chest released and I almost buckled at the knees.

Weakly I bumped fists with the man and I could tell he was snickering at how scared I must have looked, "Welcome to Overwatch. Chef O'Reilly should be here in about an hour or two. Go ahead and get yourself settled with the crew." With a nod of his head the man returned to his original position, gun at the ready, and I walked in.

Admittedly I felt bad for judging the two on the spot like that. Turns out they were good guys who just liked to pull your leg every once in awhile. I should've known better considering my wealth of experience with kitchen humor, however I'm also on a top secret mission to gather information from the inside of not just one, but two of the most powerful paramilitary organizations in the entire world. I think I deserve a little slack for being high strung.

The entrance to the kitchen had a clock in scanner, with a swipe of my I.D the interface blinked green.

"Maxwell Strand, 0987, 4:00 P.M., Clock-In: Success"

Athena's voice was recognizable almost immediately, in fact, dealing with that omnipresent A.I. was my first objective. As expected in a military base of any sorts, cameras were everywhere, and Athena was the security guard. Olivia had done all the heavy work for this, all I had to do was find any computer hooked up the main system, plug in a USB, and my employer would take care of the rest.

So, get acquainted with the crew, but more importantly, find a computer as fast as possible.

I felt around for the USB in the pockets of my uniform.

Standard issue chef's coat, coloured blue with a small overwatch logo printed neatly on my left breast. The pants were baggy, usually I preferred tighter clothing, but beggars can't be choosers.

Reassured that I still had my pocket A.I. compromisinator 3000 I walked through the automatic door and was treated to the late 21st century version of a mass production kitchen.

The space wasn't too large, in fact it was equal in size to the last kitchen I had worked in, though with much more modern equipment and an Overwatch paintjob added in to the mix.

The blast of overheads, friers, and ovens was the only sound afforded to me. Straight ahead i could see my main post for the time being.

Huh, no crew.

The most freaky thing about this place wasn't the modern equipment but the fact that it was so damn clean. Not a speck of dust and yet this place was supposed to serve nearly 1000 agents almost every day.

Either America had subpar cleaning requirements or sterilization had evolved over the 60 years since my time.

"Great, feels like a hospital already." I muttered.

Might as well get acquainted with my dishwashing rig.

An L shaped stainless steel counter partitioned me from the rest of the kitchen, a few dirty plates were already scattered over it, along with a steel bus-tub which contained blue soapy water, most likely used to soak silverware, spatulas, and the like.

On the far end was a confusing sight. There was the sanitizer of course, where you ran dishes through to be… sanitized. Duh.

What confused me most was that there was no end for me to pick up the plates once they were done. The sanitizer just ran straight into the wall.

The only answer I could come up with was an automatic sorter of some sorts might be on the other side, either that or they just didn't think it was my job to put stuff back where it belonged. Either way at the end of the day it made my job just that much easier.

I looked at a clock hanging on the wall just behind me, near the entrance. 4:07.

With nostalgic grace I grabbed one of the many empty dish racks and started sorting plates, the familiar clank of a metal ring hanging around the hose made me smile as i sprayed them down.

Never forget your roots.

/-/

15 minutes later and I was as bored as ever. Dishwashing may be a bit more modern nowadays but its still the same old shit painted in a different color.

Human curiosity won out in the end and I began to explore the rest of the kitchen. I honestly was surprised that nobody else was here, for a place that seemed so secretive they were quite lax with just letting a rookie like me do whatever he wanted all by himself. A closed door secluded from the rest of the kitchen called out to me, and I casually walked up to it. A single sign hung on it.

'Chef's Office'

I tried at the door handle.

Locked, of course. No visible keyhole for me to jimmy.

Damn. The closest possible computer, an ideal situation with nobody around to see me enter. Only to get cockblocked by a card scanner.

Oh well, "C'est la vive" I told myself, and began to explore some more.

Hmm, maybe there could be a computer in the cafeteria? After all they could have some kind of POS system for the recruits to order their own food. From the looks of things there don't appear to be any servers here…

*BANG*

Startled I looked up as somebody in the same uniform as me rushed in, he was carrying a satchel and looked pretty distressed, his eyes darted all across the kitchen before landing on me.

"You!"

I couldn't help it, I pointed at myself, "Me!"

The man didn't seem to get my reference and instead marched over to me, he had black shortcut hair that was gelled slightly, his eyes were brown and he was just about 2 inches taller than my own 5'9".

"Have you seen a robot guy wandering around here? About yay high, has a weird fake mustache and all?"

Well nice to meet you too I suppose. What, not even gonna introduce yourself first?

Kids these days.

"Ummm… nope, im new here, just started my first shift tonight. Why?"

The man visibly relaxed, "Oh thank god, Chef would have my ass for dinner if he found out I was late again," he held out his hand to me, "Sorry about that, I just can't afford to lose my job here. Name's Justin, Justin Kirkland," I shook his hand, he didn't stop to let me speak, "You're the new kid right? Maxwell? Mind if I just call you Max?"

At this point I was worried the guy wouldn't take a breath if I didn't stop him, "You can call me anything you like, I don't really mind," I flashed a small grin, "Umm are you a cook here? Where's everybody else?"

"Ah, yeah I'm one of the line cooks, its gonna just be you, me, and the chef tonight pal. Most of the agents are out on missions, and Sundays are usually pretty slow anyways. Im guessin' you already got the gist of what you're gonna do here?"

So far I liked him. Straight to the point, kind, and he actually cared about keeping his position here. Better than most cooks i've met.

"Pretty much, i have plenty of experience dishwashing. Am I supposed to just run them through? I don't see where I'm supposed to pick up the dishes…"

The man smirked a little, "Yup, that's the neat little perk about working with Overwatch, they care about the little guys here. Rumor says Winston setup a system with robotics that automatically sorts the dishes. Pretty neat huh?"

You know what, I think I hit the jackpot with this job.

"Yeah… is it run by a computer or something?"

The man looked at me oddly, similar to how Olivia did when I talked about her "PC towers"

"No offense kid but were you raised in the boonies or somethin'? Nobody calls 'em computers anymore."

Well shit. Seriously? What was wrong with computers? It described their functions just fine before.

"Yeah, guess you could say that… it's kinda why I applied for a dishwashing position instead of, I don't know, whatever you call I.T. here."

Justin chuckled and put his hand to his face in mock sadness, "Ohh kid, you have much to learn, but don't worry, thats what Im here for, come on, follow me."

Ironically he led me to the chef's office and pulled out a card identical to mine, except with a slight change in color. Instead of a blue strip it was black. He swiped it and the LED on the door changed from red to blue.

Seriously Overwatch? You like blue so much you had to switch it over to blue instead of green? Also note to self, get an upgraded card as soon as possible.

"Newbies like you won't have much access to doors here until after your 3 months probation. Don't take it personally, it's just a security measure… you know… secret military organization and all that?"

I nodded and he went inside the office. Pretty standard, had a desk, a computer tower underneath it, and a few papers scattered about.

"Well kid I'm gonna save you from embarrassing yourself and teach you some vocab."

Perfect. Maybe not the info Olivia needs but it will help me do my job better.

"Around 2040, A.I. and holographic monitors started becoming pretty standard issue, that was also around the time the great and wonderful me was born."

The man swiped his hand in front of what looked like a camera located centrally on the desk and a holographic screen appeared in front of me. This made me wonder why Olivia stuck to monitors in her… office…

"Now we just call them Artificially Intelligent Holographic Interfaces," the man mocked what I assumed to be his version of a scientist, his voice dropping a few octaves, "or you can just call them what us cooks like to call them, AIHI's.

"Ay-he's?"

"Yup, I know it sounds stupid but times change. Where did you grow up anyways?"

I didn't even need to lie. I knew that my home state would always be behind when it came to technological innovation, "I grew up in a remote part of Montana, USA, the only reason I'm here now is because my dad got a good job offer here and let me tag along, you?"

Justin hummed, "Ah that explains it, must've been a shocker coming here right?"

He has no idea.

"I grew up in the U.S. too. Southern California, ever been?"

While this conversation was doing wonders for my stress levels I really wanted to just take my USB and jam it into that computer tower underneath the desk.

Wow that sounded dirty.

I doubted Olivia would want me to wait out three months just to get access to the computer. When it comes to espionage you're always on a time crunch.

"Nope, the farthest I ever traveled was Washington."

The man made a disgruntled face and I knew I was in for a long night…

/-/

What can I say? Damn.

Justin's lived a pretty rough life for a guy not even midway through his 30's.

Apparently the Deadlock Gang isn't just operating in Arizona. They go everywhere in the U.S. and are even starting to go international, but the number of members in their little band isn't quite large enough to really catch the radars of any governments. They're pretty smart though, by keeping their numbers low they aren't hunted too much, and they can take advantage of a wider market by cooperating with larger, arguably dumber, gangs.

Imagine my surprise when I found out that the Ku Klux Klan was still a thing, but it was the most racially diverse gang in the entire U.S.

Oh, and it also sold highly dangerous and illegal drugs.

"So… how did you get out of it? The gang I mean? I'm pretty sure they don't just let anybody leave on a whim."

Justin pulled down the sleeve of his chefs coat after he had just finished showing me his tattoo, representing that he had been part of the deadlock gang without a doubt in my mind.

"Well, that's a longer… more complicated story, lets just say there's a reason I'm staying here with Overwatch and leave it at that."

I nodded, fair enough.

"Thanks for listening to me kid, its kinda nice to have someone to talk to. Chef doesn't really care for my stories much," Justin's eyes widened for a bit, "That reminds me, there's still a little bit of paperwork for you to fill out. Nothin' too hard, it's more of a questionnaire really."

As Justin turned around I immediately recognized this as my chance to get the USB into the chef's computer.

The man rummaged around for paperwork while I, as discreetly as possible, bent down and pulled out my USB.

You know how when you plug in a USB it sometimes makes a little metal clicking sound? You see I was expecting that. Instead the computer let out a loud beep that nearly gave me a heart attack, making me drop on my ass with my elbows to the floor.

The beep alarmed Justin too, because he quickly turned around, a few pieces of paper in his hand.

"Da hell was that?"

I improvised, "I don't know, bent down to tie my shoes and it just fuckin beeped. Scared the shit outta me."

I know. Classic excuse, you're a genius Max.

Must've worked though, he barked out a laugh, "Ha! God Im glad youre from the middle of nowhere kid, it's like free entertainment. You wouldn't make it in a shootout ta save your life."

I grumbled as I picked myself off the ground. Wouldn't make it huh? Well your dumbass didn't even realize that I just got one of the world's most dangerous hackers into the head chefs computer not even one whole hour into my first shift.

But I digress.

"Heh, yeah, I've never even shot a gun in my life to be honest"

Justin handed me a pen with the papers he was holding, "No shit? Would ya like me to teach you sometime? We got a shooting range here that's open to use on the weekends. Not ta brag but I'm still pretty good, even if a bit rusty." The man made pistols out of his hands and aimed at me, mouthing 'bang' as he did so.

You know what? Why not? It's true I've never shot a gun before, and I'm dying to know what modern day pistols are like. Also its not like Olivia expressly forbid me from socializing so long as I got the job done.

I smiled, "Yeah man, sounds like a date."

Justin laughed.

/-/

Getting the USB back wasn't too difficult. Justin left me alone. I repeat: ALONE, in the office while I filled out the survey he had given me.

It was pretty standard questions like, "Why did you want to work with Overwatch, who recommended you, where do you see yourself in two years, yada yada. The more I stayed here the more i started to think about why Olivia even needed me to come in. As far as I was aware she had the ability to make herself invisible, interact with comp- 'AIHI-s' without even touching them, and to top it all off she has been doing this her whole life.

As soon as I'm able to I'm gonna ask her some questions.

A knock at the door jarred me from my paperwork, "Pardon my intrusion," Omnic. Maybe the chef? "Mr. Strand, correct?"

I turned around in my seat and was not prepared for what I saw.

The omnic looked just like any other omnic, except for the fact that he looked like the robot version of Chef Boyardee.

Tall hat. Check. Fake mustache and beard? Double check.

I cleared my throat, realizing I was staring, "Uh yeah thats me, you must be Chef O'Reiley," I held out my hand and he shook it weakly, his metallic hands were much warmer than I was expecting.

"A pleasure making your acquaintance. I trust Justin has given you a tour of the facility?"

Man, talk about formal speech. The guy made me feel like American scum in front of British intellectual superiority.

"Yeah, he's a pretty nice guy."

The omnic nodded and I tried my best not to laugh at the way his fake mustache bounced comically, "Good, there are a few things we must discuss but don't worry, your position here is secure."

Sooo, I got the job in the bag I guess?

The Omnic made his way around his desk, sitting down a little too gently for my liking and started to shift through a cabinet.

Elegantly.

"For starters, due to the very nature of our organization, all Overwatch employees, this includes kitchen and janitorial staff, are relocated to live on the premises."

O'Reilly pulled out a small key and slid it across the desk towards me, "This is your room key, your room number is engraved on it. I trust you saw the elevator when you clocked in?" I nodded and took the key, putting it in the same pocket as my USB, "Good. When you have finished your shift you will have two hours to walk around authorized areas of the base. Curfew is at 12:00 A.M. sharp. In the staff elevator you will see a button marked 'R' this will take you to the residential area for staff who are not considered agents. Your room will be on that floor."

Alright, I take it back, these guys aren't as lax with security as I thought.

"Do you have any questions?"

I shook my head, seemed pretty clear to me, "Nope, seems pretty clear to me. Anything else I should know?"

"Just one thing, Mr. Strand. The mission of Overwatch is to maintain peace and harbor good relations between Omnics and Humans. At any time you can be called to join the cause as a field agent, regardless of whether you want to or not."

This was something Olivia had most definitely not told me about.

"So what I could get inducted as a soldier in training at any moment?"

He nodded, "At any moment. That is the nature of the contract you signed."

Olivia's got some explaining to do.

/-/

**Yo guys hows it goin' my g's. Sally here with another hot fresh load of improv'ed shit for ya.**

**I apologize for the cringey af AN, but Im getting really excited about where the story is going.**

**Please leave your thoughts in the review section! Hell, maybe even start speculating about where the story's goin with all this shit, cuz its only gonna pick up from here.**

**Aight, imma se yall later, buh-bye for now.**


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